


Stolen

by TheGreatCatsby



Series: KouGino Week [1]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Kougino - Freeform, M/M, canon character death, day one: moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 10:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4784678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatCatsby/pseuds/TheGreatCatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Almost is a terrible word.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stolen

**Author's Note:**

> It's Kougino week! So have three moments where they almost could have become more than friends, but didn't. It's also sad so I'm sorry.

“Colleagues can't date.” 

Kougami was drunk. Ginoza was less drunk and was judging Kougami over the rim of his glasses. Kougami wanted to reach over and take them off. 

“We're not colleagues,” he said. “You're in another division.” 

“We work in the same place,” Ginoza said, “and we work together sometimes. We're colleagues.” 

“You need to drink more.” Ginoza looked way too severe for someone who was at a bar. Kougami noticed that he was less and less relaxed more and more often. Right now, he was still wearing his work jacket. His suit was still extremely neat. Kougami's tie was in his pocket, shirt half-way unbuttoned. 

When the two of them first joined up, they were taken to a bar by Enforcer Sasayama. Ginoza had allowed himself to get even more drunk than Kougami, and had to be practically carried home. 

“I don't like drinking,” Ginoza said now. “You're an inspector. You should conduct yourself better in public.” 

“I'm off-duty,” Kougami said. He'd finished his drink. “I want more.” 

“No you don't.” Ginoza stood up. “We're leaving.” 

Kougami stood and nearly fell over. Ginoza caught him, eyes wide. 

“How'm I gonna make it home if standing is so hard?” Kougami asked. 

“I don't know,” Ginoza muttered, and he dragged Kougami outside. 

And then continued to drag Kougami down the street. 

“You're an idiot,” Ginoza said as they neared Kougami's apartment building. 

“'m not,” Kougami said. The cold air had actually regained him some sobriety, but he liked being supported by Ginoza. “Just wanna relax. Work is tough. Isn't it tough?” 

Ginoza stopped, fished around in Kougami's pocket for the fob to the building, then got them inside. 

“Maybe you don't think it's tough,” Kougami said. 

They made it inside the elevator. Ginoza didn't push Kougami off, but Kougami felt him tense. 

“It is tough,” Ginoza said, quietly. 

The doors opened, and Ginoza jerked forward, nearly letting go of Kougami, who stumbled. Ginoza grabbed him and pulled him close, and Kougami moved forward at the same time, knocking Ginoza into the opposite wall and pinning him there. 

“Oops,” Kougami said. He caught sight of Ginoza's face, eyes wide in surprise, and laughed. 

“You smell,” Ginoza said, wrinkling his nose. 

“Bad?” 

“What do you think?” 

“Do I taste bad, too?” Kougami asked. 

“How would I-” 

Kougami kissed him. 

And for a second, Ginoza kissed back. 

Then he pushed Kougami away. 

“Yes, you do taste bad.” 

He moved away, grabbing Kougami's arm and dragging him down the hall. 

The rest, Kougami didn't remember. But the next morning, he woke up alone, the apartment empty. 

*

Ginoza folded his arms over his chest and wouldn't look into Kougami's eyes, pressed against the wall of a building close to the crime scene. 

“Gino,” Kougami said, trying to get close to Ginoza without making him feel claustrophobic, which was hard, given that Ginoza seemed to want to melt into the wall behind him. “What's wrong?” 

There was blood on Ginoza's shirt, on his face, and his dominator hung limply in his hand. Division Three had been sent for back-up and had arrived after whatever it was that had happened. Kougami hadn't bothered to get the details. He'd headed straight for Ginoza, who had tried to get as far away as possible from the huge splatter of blood on the ground. 

“She shot him,” Ginoza said. He said it like he was saying that he'd finished some reports earlier, though Kougami could tell from his face that he was shaken. “He was our enforcer.” 

The 'she' Ginoza mentioned was his partner, a female inspector only a few years older than the two of them. Kougami began to put the pieces together. An enforcer must have rebelled. Neither of them had been in that situation yet. 

“I'm sorry,” he said. He moved forward, wanting to envelope Ginoza in his arms, but Ginoza pulled away. 

“We have to get back to the office,” he muttered. “I was going to negotiate with him.” 

Then he walked back to his partner. 

Kougami stared at the blood on the ground and thought, so that's how an enforcer ends his career. 

* 

Kougami thought that nothing could be worse than seeing the devastation on Ginoza's face after Makishima killed his father, exposed like a gaping wound. But he was wrong. 

After he shot Makishima, he returned. He carried Akane inside and went to find Ginoza. To make sure he was okay. To say goodbye. He knew that saying goodbye might make things worse. It would be easier to just leave cold. But he couldn't do that. 

Ginoza and Masaoka weren't where Kougami had left them, but there was a smear of blood leading away from the site to let Kougami know where they had gone. 

He followed the blood, a surprisingly long trail, until it led him outside, and he saw Ginoza staggering forward, slowly. 

Kougami rushed in front of him. “Gino,” he said. 

Ginoza's head was down, hair covering his eyes. Masaoka had been slung on top of him, like a rag doll, and blood was dripping off both of them. 

Kougami noticed, for the first time, the fresh blood dripping from Ginoza's soaked left arm. He felt alarmed, seeing how wrecked the arm was. There wasn't even skin. 

“Gino. Stop.” 

“No.” 

Ginoza took another step forward. Kougami blocked him. 

“You're hurt. You need help. Just wait somewhere. Please.” 

“Will you stay with me?” There was accusation in Ginoza's voice, but the question also sounded desperate. 

Kougami swallowed. He reached forward, tipped Ginoza's head up so that he could look Ginoza in the eyes. 

“I'm sorry. I can't.” 

“I thought,” Ginoza's voice cracked, “that's what you'd say.” His eyes seemed far away, the open devastation of earlier gone. Now he was retreating into himself. Maybe he wasn't even registering that Kougami was really about to leave. 

Maybe that was better. 

Kougami leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Ginoza's lips, tasting blood. He pulled away, stepped aside, feeling sick. 

Ginoza lurched forward again, moving past Kougami, unaware that there was nowhere he could go that would reverse what had happened. 

And Kougami turned away, and ran.


End file.
